Her name in his mouth
by captivatedlady
Summary: Kink meme fill for prompt: Abagail walks in unseen on Ichabod masturbating and calling her name. She can't stop watching and sees it through to the end.
1. Chapter 1

The door quietly clicked behind her. It had been a long day of seemingly everyone wanting a piece of her. She just wanted to crash on the nearest soft surface and not hear her name in someone's mouth for all of 5 minutes. Just 5 minutes of peace is all. Abbie silenced her phone and dropped it on the couch in the cabin. Shrugging of her jacket, she reached to pull her shirt from the waistband of her pants when she heard it. Eyes narrowed, she froze in place, ears keen to listen for the sound again. _Unghh_. A low, muffled grunt. She slipped the firearm from her side and began slowly making her way toward the sound. Carefully slipping from wall to wall, she cleared the kitchen area, the hall. The noise grew louder, and she knew it was coming from the room Ichabod used. She pressed her lips into a grimace, expecting to find Crane compromised, gagged, under duress, something. The door was open not quite halfway. Using her extended arm, she slowly pushed the door open a bit more, careful not to make a sound. The deep, throaty grunts grew more frequent, as if from a struggle.

The lamp on the far side of the room illuminated the bed, perpendicular to the entry. As she silently moved into the doorway, more of him came into view. Crane lay on the bed, bare feet, bare legs. Eyes adjusting to the dim light, adrenaline pumping, she noticed everything was bare. Crane was sprawled on the covers, legs spread and naked as the day he was born. His head thrown back on a pillow with hair loose and strands sticking to sheen collecting on his temple. Cranes chest, sprinkled with soft hair, rose and fell with labored breaths. The muscles of his stomach tightened. The grunting and groaning continued, the hand opposite her working his thick erection while the other cupped the balls beneath a dark shadow of hair. Without realizing it, her arms had slowly dropped from position and she stood in the doorway silent, eyes wide and mouthing a silent 'ohhh'. Unintelligible words came from Crane's mouth, coarse and desperate. He was working himself up to a brutal pace, his tone rising, words becoming shorter and louder. Instinct was telling her to look away, to leave, but the desperation in his voice made it hard to tear her eyes away. Then she heard it.

After the 'god almightys' and a particularly un-Crane like 'fuuuuck', his mouth contorted and with a hiss let out 'Aba-Abagail'. No, no no no. Not happening. She has lost her mind, this man did not just say her name. Then with one tight stroke, he let out a strangled ' oh god Abagail' and her hands lost their grip on her gun, sending it clattering to the wooden floor. Ichabod's head jerked toward the sound with eyes wide as he came, hot and hard into his own hand, spilling onto his stomach and covers alike.

Physically spent, his face grew redder as he panted, wanting to catch his breath and try to explain the situation away, however futile it would be. But Abbie, in shock and awe, turned smartly on one heel and bolted.

As she sat in her truck, both hands gripping the wheel, the part that seemed to bother her the most was that she actually wasn't bothered. Suprised? Yeah. Suprised at finding Crane in the buff, jacking himself off while he grunted out her name. Suprised that even though he looked good for 200, he looked ridiculously do-able laying in bed without a stitch on, damp with sweat and totally uninhibited. Suprised that instead of being embarrassed, her underwear were soaked and the desire to grind herself against something, anything, finally had her pressing her fingers against herself to gain enough relief to drive home.

_Yeah, she thought, this was the beginning of a whole new problem._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: All your lovely and kind reviews made it hard for me to let this one go as a one shot. IDK how far I'll take it but we'll see.

Abbie slammed the empty cup on the kitchen table. "oh goddd" she groaned, the last bit of spicy liquor tracing a hot line down her throat and into her belly. Flopping face down on the table, she tried to avoid the images that played behind her eyelids everytime she let them close. The drunker she got, the weirder they became; monsters tangled with death and annoying exes and 250 year old gorgeous naked men, and Corbin and Hessian nutjobs conjuring pools of demons. What the fuck was her life becoming? This wasn't working. Getting drunk off her ass was not going to solve anything, least of all the problem of how to work with your partner after you watched them jerk one out with you as their fantasy. Especially Crane. Oh man, he was so not good with these kind of things. She could count on one hand the amount of times he'd called her by her name, and 2 of those were during, well...the thing. Admittedly, one of the hottest things she'd ever seen but she truly doubted telling him that would solve the problem. She sat upright, eyesight blurred and tongue feeling too thick to fit in her mouth. 'Okay the deal- here's the deal. You show up like nothing's wrong, tell Crane to forget it happened, no harm done. Get back to work. Problem solved.' It's not like dudes don't do that all the time. She didn't know how many thought about her, but hey, it was flattering. In a weird kind of way.

Stumbling, she crashed on the couch, face into the pillows, her last coherent thought a half hope to wake up tomorrow and be over the whole Crane in bed, looking good enough to eat, with her name in his mouth and that delicious accent of his.

_The door clicked softly behind her. She shrugged out of her jacket, dropping her belongings onto the couch. Bending, she made quick work of the laces on her boots and finally peeled off her jeans. She slowly made her way to the half open door at the end of the hall, golden light spilling through into the hallway. She pulled her shirt up and over her head, letting it fall to the floor. Soft, gutteral moans grew louder as she approached the door. The sound of his voice made hot butterflies swirl downward inside her stomach, like a slow motion drop on rollercoaster. Her lower body clenched instinctively, the thin material of her underwear already becoming damp with need. This time the room looked different, the foot of the bed facing the doorway, presenting a whole different view of Crane laying on the bed. Covers askew, his tall, lean frame dominating the mattress. Face flushed and upturned, long pale fingers working their magic on himself, a small bead of sweat making it's way down from the stubble on his throat with every labored breath. She entered undetected, the weight of her body climbing onto the bed finally giving away her prescence. Crane stopped, eyes wide and dark, pupil's blown with his approaching orgasm. She straddled him, grinding the dampness of her panties against his erection, his large hands skimming her thighs, the tickling sensation setting off goosebumps over her whole body, her nipples hardening inside her bra. Ichabod's mouth opened, words threatening to spill off his tongue but she placed a finger over them, his eyes growing wide again with excitement. Shhhhh, she murmured softly, shaking her head slowly. Dragging her lips down up his neck, tasting the salty sweat that had gathered there, she directed his hand towards her inner thigh, both their fingers pulling aside the thin material that seperated them. The touch of his fingertips on her wet folds elicited a sigh that felt like she had been holding in a lifetime. The groan he let out vibrated through her as she guided his erection into her hot, slick center. She sat back, burying every inch of him inside her and slowly started to ride him, hips bucking and rotating, his hands squeezing her hips so hard she was sure she'd bruise. She pulled loose the clasp on her bra, letting it fall down her arms and tossing it aside. Again, he growled pulling her down onto him as she rode, his mouth suckling at the taut buds of her breasts, his beard tickling the sensitive skin of her chest, his rhythm speeding as he bucked his hips to meet her. She was getting close, her head was swimming and her cries became shorter and louder. She could feel him fast behind her, his erection harder and deeper with each stroke. He tangled a hand in the hair at the nape of her neck and brought her face to his, eye to eye. 'Oh God Abagail.. I'm almost..' The sound of her name in his mouth was enough to send her into the abyss. 'Yes, Crane, do it' she groaned, both of them at their peak, threatening to spill into each other._

Noise, oh god too much noise. Her hands reached out blindly for the the phone, it's shrill alarm echoing into her brain like a dull knife. Her bottoms damp with unsated desire and her core clenching at nothing. The upward spiral threatening to collapse, she pressed her hand hard to her and bucked until she was spent, the ache still there but pacified enough for her to wake up fully.  
She grabbed the phone and silenced it as soon as she could see the button clearly. 10:42 am. Already missed calls and voicemails demanded her attention. Struggling to get off the couch, her body felt like it had aged 100 years overnight. First voicemail was the captain. 'Pick up Crane, you two get down here soon, I've got something for you' he says. The complications involved in such a seemingly simple request threatened to send her calling in for a sick day until the second voicemail started.  
"Good Morning, Ms Mills. I did not know if to expect your arrival this morning, but the Captain has informed me that we are to meet him at the precinct. However, I understand...if you wish to not be in my company today. I do have a message to share with you, from Katrina. I hope this message finds you well. Your friend, Ichabod Crane."  
She leaned over the counter next to the coffeemaker, edges of countertop leaving red indentions on her arms. 'Oh god Crane. You are too sweet for your own damn good sometimes.' She could hear the embarrassment through the phone. Her unfinished wet dream had left her moody and dreading to see him in person. Avoiding him would only make him feel worse though, and honestly, he hadn't earned it. This problem was her's completely.  
One hot shower and some clean clothes later, she didn't feel half as old. Slipping on her shades to hide the damage from the drink, she headed for Corbin's cabin. The thing about an apocolypse is, it tends to put shit on the back burner, she thought.


End file.
